


Foundations of Affection

by sixbeforelunch



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Bullying (past and referenced only), Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 21:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13960476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixbeforelunch/pseuds/sixbeforelunch
Summary: T'Pring never wanted to be the consort of a legend.





	Foundations of Affection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [engmaresh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/engmaresh/gifts).



_“If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection, [her] change of sentiment will be neither improbable nor faulty.”_ \- Jane Austen, _Pride and Prejuduce_

Spock was beautiful.

This was not sentimentality, merely observation. Even in the unforgiving light of the sciences department briefing room, it was impossible not to see it. He had an effortless grace as he moved through the room. His features were strong, but not harsh. Elegant, finely-wrought hands traced the displays on the walls. And, of course, his eyes, full of thoughtful, logical intelligence.

Those eyes shifted to meet hers, sensing her attention if not the substance of her thoughts.

T'Pring ducked her head, returning her attention to her work.

She was three days into a three month assignment on the _Enterprise_ , and she had exchanged exactly fifty six words with her husband. Given the scope of Spock's duties, and her own workload, this was not surprising. Even while sharing quarters, they managed to be out of sync, their schedules just far enough out of alignment so that the one never arrived before the other had fallen asleep.

Lieutenants Masters and Uhura were deep in a conversation about an aspect of the project that was unrelated to T'Pring's research. Masters was arguing technical limitations while Uhura, not unsympathetic to the programmatic challenges of what she wanted, felt the need to "at least try to make life a little easier for communications officers everywhere."

T'Pring was half-listening to them, keeping an ear out for anything that might require her input, but otherwise focused on her own area of expertise, the theory underlying this experimental subspace relay station. Her theory. It was built on the work of others, as all science was, but she was the one who had expanded and codified it into something with practical applications.

It was gratifying that Starfleet had chosen to invest resources in this experiment. She might have preferred that another ship had been chosen to do the testing, but _Enterprise_ had one of the best communications officers in the fleet. It was logical.

_"Plus we thought it would be nice for you to get to spend some time with your husband," Commander Pham said. "Starfleet isn't entirely unsympathetic to the sacrifices couples make when one member is off on an extended deep space assignment."_

_"The thought is appreciated," T'Pring said simply, trusting that her lack of enthusiasm would be considered just more Vulcan stoicism and not the displeasure that it was._

_The thought_ was _appreciated, though she would have appreciated it more if they had asked first._

The doors to the lab opened, and Captain Kirk entered, followed by two civilians. She recognized Theera ci Pa. He was leading the logistical team. His ship must have just rendezvoused with the Enterprise, which meant that all of the civilian scientists were now on board.

Most of the civilians would only be staying for a few weeks, and would be leaving the _Enterprise_ as soon as the subspace relay station was up and running. It was only T'Pring and a few others who would be staying aboard for the full three month trial period, to collect data on the new station in its day-to-day use.

She wondered if, once the rest had gone, she might be able to move into guest quarters.

Kirk stopped in front of her workstation. "And this is Lieutenant Uhura, head of communications and an expert on xenolinguistics and communication theory. Lieutenant Masters. She's one of our engineers, in charge of building the custom computer for the new relay station. And T'Pring of Vulcan, the wife of our own Mr. Spock."

T'Pring nodded her greeting to the two newcomers, hoping that no one noticed the way her fist clenched the fabric of her dress under the table.

Some inane conversation followed. T'Pring had worked with enough aliens to know that ignoring them to focus on her own work was considered rude, but she was not feeling particularly polite, so she picked up her PADD and walked to the other side of the room.

After a few minutes, the remaining members of the project team filed in, and Kirk called them to order. T'Pring brought up the notes she had prepared, but when Kirk said, "Mr. Spock, why don't you get us started?" Spock so concisely laid out both the practical problems there were trying to solve, and the theoretical underpinnings of the new relay station, that when Kirk finally turned to her and asked if she had anything to add, she was forced to answer in the negative.

The rest of the day was tiresome without being productive. Some of the time was spent on the necessary work of being certain that everyone understood their assignments, could login to the _Enterprise_ computers, and was otherwise able to do their work. Much of it was spent on pointless "getting to know each other" exercises. She noticed that Spock managed to absent himself during that phase.

At the end of the workday, she excused herself from the planned gathering in the recreation room. It was not an official function, and she had no desire to make friends.

Spock was, unsurprisingly, not in his quarters when she got there. She sighed as the door closed behind her, shedding the outer layers that she wore to keep warm in the chilly Human-standard temperatures of the ship. Spock's quarters were warm, and softly lit.

She kicked off her shoes and sat down on the bottom of the bed, closed her eyes, and focused on her breathing. In, and out. Her thoughts were disordered. She made no attempt to control them, but let them swirl around her. In, and out. She steepled her fingers as she had been taught in childhood. In, and out. Three months was not so very long a time. In, and out.

Three months, and then the rest of her life.

There was a soft noise. Her eyes snapped open. Spock was standing just inside the door.

"I have disturbed your meditations."

She stood up. "No matter." She stared at him for a moment and then said, "I was just about to use the facilities."

He was not gone when she came out, even though she had taken her time in showering and braiding her hair. He was sitting in a chair, reading. When she sat down on the bed, he wordlessly got up and walked into the lavatory. She tossed down the blankets and got into bed, pulling her knees to her chest and letting her chin rest on top of them.

Spock came out a few minutes later. He was wearing a pair of loose-fitting pants, no shirt. Despite everything, she took a moment to appreciate the sight.

He hesitated, and then sat down on the edge of the bed, his back to her.

"Your thoughts are disordered," he said quietly.

"Yes, they are."

She gave in to the impulse to lay her hand on his back, between his shoulders. He stiffened, and then relaxed. Swinging his legs up into the bed, he rolled onto his side to face her. She lay down likewise, and traced the side of his face with her finger. His mind was steady, but there was concern, and beneath that, anxiety, and hurt.

"We have not properly spoken since our marriage," he said.

"We did not properly speak then either," she replied.

He caught her hand and held it in his own. "You were going to challenge."

He had seen that in her mind. He had seen everything. Most males were so addled by the plak tow that they couldn't make sense of anything in the deep meld of joining, but Spock had always been different.

"I was. Stonn..."

"You wanted Stonn. But you were not prepared to risk his life in the challenge, so you told him to stay away."

_She wasn't prepared for the hurt in Stonn's eyes. She reached out for him, but he stepped away. "If you will not let me fight for you, we cannot be."_

_She could see all too clearly his blood running on the sand, the life draining from his eyes._

_"Then we cannot be. I won't watch you die."_

_"He will not win."_

_"He might." The possibility was enough._

_And with that, it ended between them._

"You wouldn't risk Stonn's life. But mine?"

"It meant less to me. Not nothing, but less." She pulled her hand back and used hit to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "It means more now. I thought, maybe...before you came to me, before we burned together, I thought I could take your lands and your name and have Stonn as well. But I found, after, that even if he had been willing, I...could not be disloyal. I am yours, Spock. For better or worse."

"But you would rather not be." He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. "Because of my heritage?"

She frowned at him. "Your mother is smarter than that, and you know it."

_Amanda knelt down in front of her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "You've seen what Spock goes through. You go to school with him, so you've seen even more than I have. As his wife, some of that is going to transfer to you. You need to be ready for that."_

_T'Pring stood as tall as her seven year old height would allow her. "I am prepared to do my duty, t'sai."_

_Amanda closed her eyes. "Oh, you darling girl. This can't just be about duty." She leaned closer. "You can say no. One word from you and I will stop this."_

_"The clan has decided."_

_Amanda smiled. "I've been sitting next to T'Pau through interminable clan meetings for over a decade. I know how to fight the clan and win. You can say no."_

_T'Pring thought for a minute, then smiled, more broadly than a girl her age should have, as the answer came to her. "The gesture is appreciated, but I don't want to say no. I like Spock, just as he is."_

"She is," Spock acceded. "But things change."

"They do. My belief that your heritage is immaterial to our joining has not."

He didn't believe her, though he wanted to. His childhood bullies had done a thorough job of instilling in him a deep sense of alienation. "What did change?" he asked quietly.

"You became a legend." She sat up and rubbed at her forehead, hoping that the tension building behind her temples did not become a full-blown headache. "I do not enjoy being the consort of a legend." She got out of bed and got a glass of water, aware that she was only doing it to have an excuse to move around and work out some of her restlessness. "Where ever I go, whatever I accomplish, my identity is subsumed in yours. Just today, your captain introduced me as 'the wife of our own Mr. Spock.'"

"He meant no insult. He respects your work."

She set her glass down with too much force. "His intent doesn't matter."

He lifted himself up onto his elbows and looked at her. They stared at each other for a long moment.

"I cannot change what I am," Spock said, softly.

She sighed and got back into bed. "No. And it is illogical to want you to, more so to resent you for being so accomplished. I just...would like to have my own accomplishments recognized as well. But perhaps this is vanity."

He ran the tips of his fingers along her collarbone. "Not vanity. I--"

She caught his hand. "I don't want to talk about this anymore." She had already revealed more than she'd intended to. Ironic that Spock, the hybrid who, according to the bigots back home, could never be a real Vulcan, was flawlessly controlled while her own emotions roiled within her.

She moved to straddle him, feeling his surprise. He hesitated, and then rested his hands on her bare thighs. His hands were warm, and soft. She leaned forward, resting her hands on either side of him and staring into his dark eyes. His pupils dilated, and she allowed herself a small smile.

"I have some tension to work out, as you see. I could exercise, or meditate, but as you are here, this seems a logical approach."

"Is this logical?" he murmured. "A moment ago you were displeased with me."

"Displeased with your reputation, or rather the consequences thereof, for me. Not precisely displeased with you."

"You were prepared to watch me die."

She spread her hands in what some of her human colleagues had called a Vulcan shrug. "That is in the past. I can assure you that I very much want you alive now."

"And Stonn?"

"Done." He gave her a searching look. "Truly and entirely done, and never to be resumed. You doubt me?"

He sighed, just a soft exhalation of breath. "It is said that Vulcans do not lie."

"It is said by people who are not Vulcan. We know better. So I give you a greater assurance. _Kita'uh ish-veh fi'hineklar t'nash-veh._ " Write it on my bones. It was not a saying thrown around lightly, and Spock nodded. Vulcans lied, when they could logic themselves into the necessity of it, but the old oaths held power, and Vulcans did not swear to them with deceit in their hearts, not if they possessed even a shred of decency.

She ran her hands along his chest. "We were never going to be simple, you and I." She started to place her fingers on the meld points. Let him see what was really within her.

He turned away. She began to pull back, to get off of him. "Very well."

He caught her face between his hands. "I want you. But there are things we must sort out."

She raised an eyebrow. "Eighty six days, nine hours, and fourteen minutes. That is how much longer I will be with you. Time enough, I think, for sorting. Tonight, can we just be together?"

His face softened into something like affection. "As my wife wishes."

*

He was gone when she woke up the next morning. It was not surprising, given his workload. She had never doubted that his reputation was earned, but seeing him work, her esteem for him had grown.

She met him in the briefing room, where they had set out breakfast. T'Pring helped herself to a small plate of food and some tea. The members of the project team were staggering in, most of them heading straight for the pots of coffee and other stimulant beverages.

Spock was sitting near the head of the table. She took the seat across from him. He looked at her, but didn't say anything.

"Commander Spock?" A Human male, Maragos, stepped close to him. "I didn't get a chance to meet you yesterday. You are Spock?"

"I am Spock, the husband of T'Pring," he said, nodding to her.

She blinked in surprise, but otherwise kept her face still.

Maragos smiled at her and turned back to Spock. "It's an honor to meet you, sir. When you have time, I'd love to discuss your paper on Murasaki 312. Are you going to be leading the briefing today?"

"No. It is T'Pring's theory which forms the basis for this project. She will be leading us."

"Of course." Maragos smiled at her again. "Looking forward to it."

He walked away to avail himself of the food options. T'Pring raised an eyebrow. Spock got up and walked around to her side of the table, leaning down and speaking softly so that no one might overhear them. He was so close that she could feel his breath against his ear.

"I can't change what I am. But I can assure you that you have my respect, professional and otherwise."

He straightened. "It is now 0800 hours," he announced to the room at large.

Everyone got the hint and found a seat.

Spock nodded to her. T'Pring rose. She held his gaze for a moment, just long enough to communicate her gratitude. He inclined his head.

She picked up the PADD with her notes. "Let us begin."

end

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to the vuhlkansu Discord for help with the translation of the Vulcan sentence.


End file.
